


Harsh Truths

by afteriwake



Series: Just A Little Bit [11]
Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 16:47:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has heard many things about Rory Williams from many people, and he's curious so he pays the man a visit to sate his curiosity. When he returns home he tells Amy he met her ex-husband, and she does not take it well. But in the end maybe all this was for the best.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harsh Truths

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nocna_Mora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nocna_Mora/gifts).



> So I got into a very lovely conversation with **Aiwiel** in the AO3 comments to "Bombshells" and decided I would write the fic we talked about sooner in the series rather than later. Well, one of them. River's inevitable issues will be in another fic. I hope you enjoy it, m'dear!

Sherlock approached the home with trepidation. He hadn't told Amelia he was doing this because he knew she'd get angry. He didn't want to make her angry, but there was a part of him that needed to know something, and there was only one way to find out. In the last few weeks he had spent more time with the Doctor and River, now that Amelia had been reunited with them. And depending on who he talked to, he heard two very different versions of the man Rory Williams was.

River was hurt, he could tell. Amelia had told him about her childhood, how she had been raised in an orphanage for a time surrounded by the Silence, how she had escaped and regenerated into Mels Zucker and grown up with Amelia and Rory, how she finally became River Song in Hitler's office. When River talked about her father there was a sense of jealousy in her tone, that her half-sibling would get the life she had craved. She would get her father's love from birth to one of their deaths, and she would get to have the proper childhood River should have had. He could see why she was envious, but she took it to a level that worried him.

The Doctor, on the other hand, would only talk about Rory when River and Amelia were not around. There were times the Doctor would arrive without River when Amelia was not at home, and the two men would talk. The Doctor missed Rory, he could tell. When Sherlock asked for more details on the man the Doctor would share stories of Rory's bravery, of the good man he was, of things that showed he didn't deserve to be despised. The Doctor had lost more than just a father-in-law; he had lost a good friend as well. Sherlock supposed he filled that void somewhat, and he was glad for that, but there was a Rory-shaped hole in the Doctor's life that even he couldn't completely fill.

It wasn't that hard to find Rory's address. He had hidden it from Amelia, which probably wasn't smart, but at the point where he'd gotten it he wasn't sure what he wanted to do with it. The man probably didn't want any reminders of his life with Amelia, much less Amelia's new boyfriend showing up unannounced. But he needed to know what kind of man he was replacing, and he also didn't want to have the kind of ending that Rory and Amelia had had. If anyone would be able to tell him what not to do it would be her ex-husband. And so he stood outside the door now and after a moment he knocked. He knew Rory's fiancée wouldn't be home right now, and Sherlock simply hoped he was.

After a few minutes the door opened. He had known what Rory looked like; finding a photo of him had been just as easy as finding his address. “Can I help you?” Rory asked. Then his eyes widened slightly. “You're Sherlock Holmes. The consulting detective.”

Sherlock nodded. “Yes,” he said quietly.

“You're also Amy's new boyfriend,” he said slowly.

“Yes,” he said again. “I know you probably don't want to talk to me, but I wondered if I could have a few moments of your time.”

Rory nodded slowly, and then moved out of the way. “Come in.”

Sherlock stepped into the home and looked around. It was small but cozy, and definitely decorated by a woman. His own home had started to develop touches like this once Amelia had moved in. Rory shut the door behind him, and then moved in front of Sherlock. “Sitting room's a bit cramped at the moment, so we'll have to make do with the kitchen. Do you want some tea?”

“Yes, thank you,” Sherlock said, following Rory into the house more. It took a few moments but they made it into the kitchen. Rory filled the kettle up with water and then plugged it in. “I am sorry to intrude.”

“I'm actually surprised you didn't stop by sooner,” Rory said with a slight smile. “I'm fairly sure Amy had a lot of really nasty things to say after our fight.”

“She did,” Sherlock said with a nod. Rory nodded towards some stools by the counter and Sherlock sat in one. “Your daughter has also had some not quite as pleasant things to say as well.”

Rory sighed. “Neither of them can understand why I'm not telling Alice about all of it.”

“That is something I will admit I'm curious about,” Sherlock said.

“How much do you know about River and why she was kidnapped as an infant?” Rory asked, leaning against the counter opposite from Sherlock.

“I know most of the story,” he said. “I know about the Silence and Madame Kovarian and the fact that River was trained to be a weapon.”

“She's still out there. They all are,” he said. “All the enemies the Doctor has, the alien races he's angered over the years. Daleks, The Silence, Weeping Angels...there's probably loads of others I don't know about. And they're all out there, wanting to hurt the Doctor. Most of them would probably like it very much if he just died and didn't regenerate. And they're always looking for a way to hurt him.”

“And you don't want you or your new family to be a target,” Sherlock said as realization dawned on him.

Rory nodded. “I can protect myself, I suppose. I didn't spend two thousand years as a Roman soldier for nothing. But if they grab Alice or my child, it may be Melody all over again, or worse. They could be taken away and I'll have no hope of finding them again, or they could be killed. I don't want to risk it.”

Sherlock thought about it for a moment. Rory had a valid point, and he knew for a fact that the idea that Rory had broached had not crossed River or Amelia's minds, or if it had bitterness had overridden the fact that it was logical that he was distancing himself. If he had been in Rory's position he probably would have done the same thing. “Do you think she's safer not knowing?”

Rory was quiet for a moment. “I don't know. That's something I wrestle with, whether I should tell her for her own safety. I mean, you obviously know. Was Amy the one who told you?”

Sherlock shook his head. “I met the Doctor while I was away from London. He told me some of his story. Amelia filled in the rest when I told her I had met him.”

“Do you feel safer knowing?” he asked.

“I feel more prepared,” Sherlock said slowly. “But I like to know my enemies, or at least know of them. I feel I have more control over my life if I know.”

“Have you ever had someone want to hurt you before? Someone willing to stop at nothing to ruin your life?” Rory asked in a curious tone.

“Yes. James Moriarty. It's because of him that I needed to fake my death. He was threatening my friends’ lives. He'd also ruined my reputation, among other things.” He watched the knowing look on Rory's face, as though Rory realized he really did understand. “So I do know what that is like.”

“Amy doesn't understand, not really. I mean, you can take care of yourself, just like I can. You can keep her safe, just like I could. Hell, she could probably take care of herself if it came down to it, keep herself safe. And River can do it too. But Alice can't, and I don't want to ask her to. I want to keep her safe.”

“But you hate lying to her,” Sherlock said shrewdly.

“I do,” Rory said quietly. “That's what keeps me up at night.” They lapsed into silence until the kettle began to whistle. Rory unplugged it and began to make the tea. “Do you love her?”

“Yes,” Sherlock said with a nod.

“I don't hate her. She was the first girl I loved. I'm always going to care about her. Don't make my mistake and let love blind you. She's a good woman, but she has issues, just like everyone has. She's not perfect, not like I thought for a long time.” He looked at Sherlock. “But somehow I get the feeling you probably won't make that mistake. If you had intended to go that route you wouldn't have paid me a visit.”

“No. Most likely I would have blindly taken her side in the argument and despised you without ever having met you.” Sherlock leaned forward more. “I know she has her faults. I know very well the both of us are damaged people. With each other we're less damaged, I think, but it's still there.”

“You're a smarter man than I was,” Rory replied with a smile. “I think she did well picking you.”

Sherlock was surprised by the compliment. “I thought for sure you would want nothing to do with me.”

He crossed his arms. “I probably shouldn't. It's going to blow up in our faces, I think, or at least yours. But you get it, and I don't know many people who do.” He paused. “You may be the only one, actually.” 

“You remind me of my friend John,” he said. “Someone who has seen much in their years to shape them. Someone who has fought battles. Except I think you were a more reluctant soldier than he was.”

Rory nodded. “Yeah. I didn't want to fight those battles. That's not who I am. I'm a nurse because I want to help people, you know? As a soldier you don't really do that.” Sherlock nodded and Rory looked at him intently. “You're just as battle scarred as I am, I think. You've seen things, done things. You understand. And I think that's why you get why I'm trying to protect the people who are my family now.”

“You're right. I do understand.” Sherlock put his elbows on the counter and steepled his fingers together. “And I think you're also correct in that this is going to blow up in our faces. But I needed to sate my curiosity.”

“The fights are one thing I definitely don't miss,” Rory said. “She can be very vindictive in a fight. It's one of her flaws. She'll go for the deep dig, and she'll keep digging until you fight her back, even if you don't want to. But I don't see you as someone who will lose their temper as quickly as I could with her.”

“Given the right circumstances I would,” Sherlock admitted. “I'm going to be honest with her and told her I talked to you. I know it would be worse if I lied to her.”

“You're right about that,” Rory said with a nod. He was quiet for another moment. “If you were me, would you tell Alice the truth? About all of it?”

“I suppose the question is do you think she would believe you, first off,” Sherlock said. “Would she think you're absolutely off your rocker if you told her the truth?”

“I don't think so,” Rory replied. “I think she realizes I've had a very unusual life.”

“I would say it might be best if the Doctor put in an appearance, but if you're trying to shield her that might not be the best idea.”

“No, probably not,” Rory said with a slight grin. “But I think she'd believe me regardless.”

“Then I say tell her. Keep her safe by letting her know how badly it can go, so she can be prepared. So she will know and it won't blindside her.” Sherlock watched as Rory checked the tea and then began pouring them each a cup. “But my advice is not worth as much as your own intuition.”

“Still, it's good advice,” Rory said as he finished. He handed a cup to Sherlock. “You know, I think it's a good thing you came here. Not just for you, but for me too. I'd kind of wondered about you.” He took a sip of his tea. “I think Amy's in good hands now.”

“Thank you.” He took a sip of his own tea. “How long do you have until you need to go back to what you were doing before I interrupted?”

“I can chat for a while,” Rory replied. “I don't think it would be so bad if we got to know each other better. I mean, you're planning on sticking around in Amy's life for a while, right?” Sherlock nodded. “Then that means there's the potential you might end up my daughter's stepfather. I should really get to know you for that reason alone.”

“I'm glad you feel that way,” Sherlock said with a slight smile. After that he started to ask questions, and soon Rory was asking questions as well. By the time he left three hours later he thought he knew Rory rather well. Rory really was a good man, he thought to himself. He made his way back home and saw Amy sitting in his chair, looking at a magazine. “We need to talk,” he said quietly when she looked up.

She frowned at him. “What happened?” she asked slowly.

“I paid a visit to Rory today,” he said, sitting down in John's chair. He watched as her face got a hard set. “I talked to him for a few hours.”

“Wonderful,” she murmured, crossing her arms. “And just what did my ex-husband have to say about me, hmm?”

“That he still cares about you, first off,” Sherlock said. “That he wishes things had ended differently.”

“Then he should have tried harder,” she said in a huff, standing up. She began to pace. “Did he tell you all of it? Every detail of our relationship that I hadn't told you?”

“Only what I asked about,” Sherlock said, watching her pace.

“There are reasons I didn't tell you, Sherlock. There were things I didn't want you to know.” She stopped in front of him and looked down at him. “I hope the visit was worth it.”

“I learned a great deal,” he said.

“I bet you did,” she muttered. “Tell me, why isn't he telling his fiancée about River? It's because he's ashamed of her, right? That he has a daughter with me who looks older than both of us?”

“No. It's because he doesn't want the Doctor's enemies coming after them,” he said, trying to remain calm. “You never told me Madame Kovarian is still out there. What's to stop her from coming after me? Or John? Or Mrs. Hudson?”

“You can protect yourself,” she said.

“But Mrs. Hudson can't, just like his fiancée can't,” Sherlock pointed out. “And there are threats that I can't handle. What would you do if I encountered a Dalek? Or The Silence? Or a Weeping Angel?” He watched her tense at the mention of the third alien, but he pressed on. “I can only protect myself so much. I can only protect _you_ so much, Amelia. So I can understand why he's doing what he's doing.”

“Why are you taking his side?” she asked, throwing her hands up. “You're supposed to take _my_ side.” She began to pace again. “You're _my_ boyfriend, after all.”

“I'm not taking his side. I'm merely saying I understand his motivations. As it stands, he's telling her tonight.” She stopped and looked at him, her jaw hanging open slightly. “I pointed out that a threat you are ready for is better than being blindsided by a threat you don't know. He saw the logic in that. So now you and River don't have to think he's slighting either of you.”

She looked at him, shaking her head. “He still hurt me,” she said.

“And you hurt him,” he said insistently. “The dissolution of your marriage was not all his fault, Amelia. You were both equally to blame. He realizes that. I'm honestly rather surprised you don't see it, considering how intelligent you are.”

“How could I hurt him?” she asked in an accusatory tone.

“You shut him out. You do that with me as well, I've found.”

“No, I don't.”

“You push me away sometimes, Amelia. You have other flaws as well, things that both he and I realize.”

“So you think I'm just a huge ball of flaws,” she said coldly, glaring down at him.

“I have my own flaws. I'm arrogant and callous and I speak without thinking first. But with you I make a concerted effort to try not to do that. I try and make an effort even when you're not around. And you make an effort with me most of the time. There are times you slip. There are times I slip too. It's being normal, so I'm told. But you held Rory to such a high standard he couldn't possibly live up to it.” He stood up and moved closer to her, but she wouldn't look at him, her face grim and her jaw set. “Do you hold me to a similar standard?”

“I don't hold you to any standard,” she said. “That way you don't let me down, like everyone else does. But maybe I should have, because obviously you don't care about me or my feelings, just like every other man I've been with since Rory.”

“I'm going to let that go for the moment,” he said.

“Why? It's the truth.” She looked at him. “If you actually did love me you never would have gone to see him. You would have respected me.”

“I do respect you, Amelia. But I also respect the fact that when it comes to him you're blinded by jealousy and bitterness.” He looked at her intently. “You will never be happy with me until you move past that. Whatever it is we're going to have, it will be soured until you move on completely. You don't need to forgive him, but you need to not hate him.”

“I don't need to hear this,” she said, turning away from his intense gaze. She went to the coat rack and grabbed her coat. “Don't expect me home any time soon. If this is even my home still.” She pulled her coat on and headed down the stairs, opening the front door. “Better yet, don't expect me back at all,” she yelled before slamming the front door shut a moment later.

Sherlock sank down into his chair. He hadn't lost his temper, for which he was grateful. And he had spoken nothing less than the truth; as long as she hated Rory Williams she would never truly let herself love him. And he wanted that. He wanted her love and affection, and didn't want it tainted in any way. He just had to hope that he had not ruined things beyond repair.

He was still sitting there three hours later when the front door opened again. John was not supposed to be home for a few more hours, but he waited to see if it was her. Amy came up the stairs slowly. He took a good look at her when she came closer and saw her eyes were red, as though she had been crying. He waited for her to speak, but she said nothing as she sat down in John's chair. He studied her for a few moments, and watched her wring her hands slightly. Finally she spoke. “The Doctor took his side, too,” she said quietly.

“I see,” he said.

“Am I really that horrible a person?” she asked, looking down at the floor. “Do I push people away and hate them when they're not the perfect people I expected them to be? Am I going to be bitter and let hatred consume me until I push away every last person I care about?”

“You are not a horrible person,” he said quietly. “You're flawed, just like me. Just like everyone else in the world.”

“I thought the Doctor would understand. I ranted and raved and he sat there and then he told me I was wrong. That River was wrong. That he'd held his tongue around both of us but we were in the wrong.” She looked over at Sherlock. “How can I not hate him, Sherlock? How do I make myself not hate Rory?”

“I don't know,” he said, leaning forward. “You can start by forgiving him for not being perfect. For not living up to your expectations, by realizing you wanted perfection and no one is capable of giving that twenty-four hours a day seven days a week.”

“I wanted things to work. I thought he didn't try hard enough. I thought he had let me down. But I let him down too, didn't I? I should have tried harder if I'd really wanted to save our marriage.” She looked away and looked back at her hands. “It really is just as much my fault as it was his, wasn't it? I mean, it might have been all my fault for all I know. I felt more like he was a ball and chain than a decent and kind man who loved me.”

“He will admit that part of it was his fault,” he replied. “The blame doesn't rest entirely on his shoulders, but it doesn't rest entirely on yours, either.”

“I don't want us to go down that road,” she said, and he could see a tear fall from her eyes. “I don't want to go through all of that again. And I'm scared I'll hold you to too high of a standard and you'll let me down because I want perfection and I'll leave you, too. I'll push you away and you'll let me.”

He got up out of his chair and moved closer to her, sitting on the arm of her chair. Another tear slipped down her face and he wiped it away. “That is something you'll need to work on,” he said gently. “But I won't let you push me away easily. Part of Rory's problem, and he will admit to this, is that in the end he just gave up because it was easier. I will not do that, and I won't let you do it, either. As long as you feel there is something worth fighting for I will stay. I can be incredibly stubborn, as you well know.”

“I'm sorry I got angry at you,” she said, leaning her head against him. He shifted slightly and put an arm around her shoulders. “You were only doing what you felt you needed to do. I wouldn't tell you about my life with him, and you needed to know. You had every right to know. You were doing what was logical. That's the way you are.” She put an arm around his waist. “And you and the Doctor, you were both right. About everything. As long as I hate him I'm never going to let myself love you. I'm always going to hold back. And I don't want to do that.”

“I could have told you in a better way,” he said, leaning down slightly and kissing the top of her head. “That gaffe was on me.”

“No, I think you needed to tell me exactly how you did,” she said, shaking her head. “I needed to hear it, and I think I needed to hear it from the Doctor, too.” She pulled away and looked up at him. “What should I do now?”

“Perhaps you should talk to Rory, make your peace with him,” he said. “I think if you try again now you won't fight. You may get something out of it, and I think he will as well. At the very least you can start to let go of the hurt and bitterness.”

“I might do that,” she said with a nod. “After he's told his fiancée the truth, I think.”

“That would be best.” Sherlock gave her a slight smile, and she gave him a shaky one in return. “What do you want to do now?”

“I think I'd like to go get some rest,” she said. “And it might be nice if I had some company.”

“I could join you,” he said with a nod. He stood up, and so did she. She paused for a moment, then reached over for his hand. He grasped it tightly for a moment before she pulled him to their bedroom. For the first time since he had gotten home that day he had hope that, perhaps, things would work out well in the end. Maybe, if he was lucky, things would be better now. He at least hoped that was what happened, at any rate.


End file.
